Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Bangladesh and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Traffic Nightmare to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Banda Bassotti. All the underground hits.
All The Flesh Eaters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Thompson Twins record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Real Kids record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Doors,
Al Stewart,
Lou Reed,
Robert Hood,
Byron Stingily,
Quadrant,
These Immortal Souls,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Whodini,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Electric Prunes,
Ornette Coleman,
Surgeon,
Bootsy Collins,
The Knickerbockers,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Henry Cow,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Cameo,
Ituana,
H. Thieme,
Rotary Connection,
Bang On A Can,
Motorama,
The Human League,
Warsaw,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Amazonics,
K-Klass,
Supertramp,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Roy Ayers,
Stockholm Monsters,
Glambeats Corp.,
Cal Tjader,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Lalann,
Suburban Knight,
Lungfish,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Busters,
Lakeside,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Tubeway Army,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Depeche Mode,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Dave Clark Five,
Severed Heads,
kango's stein massive,
the Normal,
Reuben Wilson,
Johnny Clarke,
Country Teasers,
The Residents,
Barbara Tucker,
Zapp,
Faust,
Camberwell Now,
Groovy Waters, Groovy Waters, Groovy Waters, Groovy Waters.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.